Ours is a house of prayers.
And of
family meals.
Both of
which just, naturally, go together—with each of us taking turns...
This
morning, over a feast of dollar-sized pancakes, it was two-year-old, second
youngest granddaughter’s (hereinafter known as Cutie#11—or C11 for short) turn.
Now, to
this point, C11 had been stacking up her little mound of hotcakes and cooing at
them because they were just ‘so cute!’
She wasn’t
ready to stop.
Mama: It’s (C11’s) turn to say the blessing.
C11: No.
Mama: Dear Heavenly Father…
C11: No!
Mama: We’re thankful for this food…
C11: No! No!
Mama: Please bless it…
C11: No! No! No! No!
Mama: In the name of Jesus Christ…
C11: No!
Mama: AMEN!
C11: NO!
We’re all a work in progress…
